


Christmas on Baker Street

by SumeragiSakura



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Christmas, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Hoopkins, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Sherlock December Ficlets, mystrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-09 14:13:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12889611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SumeragiSakura/pseuds/SumeragiSakura
Summary: Ficlets written for missdaviswrites Sherlock December Ficlets prompts. I’m not sure how many I’ll get to but I’ve started so I may as well put what I finish up, right? Ratings and tags will likely change as I go.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bundled Up/Peppermint - Johnlock

Mrs. Hudson carefully pulled the roasting pan from the oven to inspect the results of her work. She lightly poked the golden skin with her meat fork and heard a tiny crackle. She pressed a little harder and the fork slid easily through the skin into the meat. She speared a leg and it nearly fell off into the pan. Perfect. She may not have cooked a holiday meal in years but she hadn’t lost her touch.

She’d volunteered for the task one morning a few weeks ago. She brought up Sherlock’s tea to find him already awake, books and magazines strewn about on every available surface. Nothing too out of the ordinary. “Hoo-hoo, Good morning Sherlock. I’ve brought tea.” She didn’t get an answer but she didn’t expect one either. She set the tray on top of an open magazine so she could clear a space and noted the material. **~A Magical Christmas~** _Make your Christmas one to remember!_ A quick glance around the room told her that all these books were in a similar vein. “Sherlock? What is all this?”

“I thought that would be fairly obvious.” He didn’t look up. Mrs. Hudson noticed yesterday’s shirt peeking out from underneath his dressing gown. Ah, so he wasn’t already awake but rather had never slept at all.

“For anyone else maybe, but you never cared much about…” She glanced down at another article and read, “maximizing your guests holiday spirit. Are you planning on having another get together this year?”

“No.”

“No? Is this for a case of some kind then?”

“No.” He replied distractedly as he continued trying to ignore her. 

She watched him a moment and remembered that he was meant to meet John and Rosie yesterday at the park for the first time in a while. Everything instantly clicked into place. She smiled ear to ear and clasped her hands together under her chin. “Oh Sherlock! John agreed didn’t he? He’s going to bring Rosie here for Christmas?” He finally looked at her, expression equal parts hopeful and terrified. “He is! Oh this is so exciting!”

Sherlock’s cheeks flushed and he turned quickly back to his computer screen. “Why would you be excited? Aren’t you visiting your sister again?”

“No dear, she’s traveling this year. Oh and it’s been so long since there’s been a child in the house for Christmas! It really is a children’s holiday you know.” 

Sherlock furiously clicked through websites too fast for even him to read. The poor child, still trying to hide as though she hadn’t already seen through him completely. She stepped close enough to lay a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to put all this pressure on yourself dear. If you’d like I’ll help you make this Christmas magical for them, but I won’t hang around you the entire day.”

He looked at her sheepishly. “Why would I care if you did?”

She pinned him with a patronizing look. “Why indeed. You know just because I’m old doesn’t mean I’m stupid. So, would you like me to help?”

She felt his shoulder relax in relief. “Yes. Please, if it’s not too much trouble.”

She chuckled to herself at the memory. She wasn’t sure the quality of the holiday would help Sherlock’s cause but it certainly couldn’t hurt. So far Mrs. Hudson thought it had been rather successful. John and Rosie had arrived bright and early by cab, Rosie bundled up so thickly she resembled a giant strawberry meringue cookie. The bags under John's eyes were a shade darker than usual but he was as pleased as ever to see Sherlock. So was Rosie judging by high pitched “Serlock!” and grabby little hands outstretched in his direction.

The morning had been a whirlwind of brightly colored packages and delighted squeals as Rosie played with her new toys, discarded boxes, and balled up wrapping paper with equal amounts of joy. Mrs. Hudson had excused herself once all the gifts were opened to afford them a little privacy, as promised. 

As she puttered about her own flat making dinner she’d heard them shuffling and thumping about. She’d even heard a few Christmas carols floating down the stairwell on Sherlock’s violin. Now it had been a solid half hour since she had heard any sort of noise from upstairs. She decided to let the turkey rest while she went to check on her youngsters. True, two of them were far beyond the point of being considered young by any stretch, but to her anyone over 20 years her junior counted.

The door to the landing was only open partway, so she knocked gently on the door frame and said her usual “Hoo-hoo” before peeking inside. No one in the chairs and no one at the desk. She gently pushed the door open wider and found them all sound asleep on the little sofa. Sherlock sat upright, head at an unfortunate angle on his own shoulder with John nestled against him, his head also resting on Sherlock’s shoulder. Between them Rosie curled up with her head on Sherlock’s thigh and her feet on John’s.

Mrs. Hudson carefully backed out of the room and crept back down to her flat to grab her camera, taking extra care to avoid the creaky steps as she went. She managed to get a few shots before the click of the shutter woke Rosie. She sat up and rubbed at her eyes with one tiny fist.

“Hello there lovie.” Mrs. Hudson whispered to her as Rosie toddled over. “Did you have a nice nap?” She nodded as Mrs. Hudson lifted her onto her good hip. 

Rosie turned back in the direction of the sofa. “Daddy?”

“Shhh. Let’s let them sleep, ok? Can you come and help me with dinner? We can come get Daddy and Sherlock a little later.” She turned towards the doorway.

“Ok. Daddy and Serlock tired.”

“Yes they are.” Mrs. Hudson tossed a quick look over her shoulder and caught Sherlock just waking up, rubbing at his neck with his free hand. She held a finger to her lips. Once Sherlock registered that the warm weight at his side was John he turned his incredulous gaze back on Mrs. Hudson. She smiled and winked at him, then whisked Rosie out of the room. “Come on dearie, let your daddies have some rest and I’ll let you taste one of the chocolate peppermint biscuits I made for later.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wish List/Shopping - Hoopkins

“...ly. Hello? Molly!”

“Hmm? Oh! Sherlock.” She started and nearly tipped her paper cup of coffee all over her desk. Sherlock put out a gloved hand to catch it and Molly sighed in relief. “I’m so sorry. Thank you. That could have been a disaster.” She said with a small nod toward the open laptop.

Sherlock openly scrutinized her. “Startling you wasn’t my intention. You seem distracted.”

“Why do you say that?” She giggled nervously. “I’m not distracted.” She took a sip of her coffee to avoid looking Sherlock in the face. 

“I had to call your name no less than five times before you responded.” He deadpanned. 

Her cheeks turned pink. “I’m just concentrating on my work.”

He stared at her intensely long enough to make her squirm. “Oh! I see. So which ‘work’ is it that has you so engrossed this time? Is it that man in accounts?”

“Who? Mr. Krendler? He’s ancient! And a pervert!”

“Wouldn’t stop him from trying.”

“It would stop me from giving him the chance! Give me some credit Sherlock, really.” She turned to close the laptop.

“Says the woman who dated…” she whipped her head around, lips pressed into a thin line and eyebrows drawn, and Sherlock wisely stopped talking. He had previously noted several sharp instruments easily within her reach. “Ah, well, lets not dwell on the past. Was it that blond haired lad in the cafeteria?” 

“You mean Daniel?”

Sherlock shrugged. “I wouldn’t know his name. I only know he fancies you from what I’ve observed.”

Molly sighed. “That’s unfortunate. He’s married and I have no interest in being ‘the other woman.’”

“Hmm. Who is it then? Or are you going to make me guess to earn the foot you promised me.”

Molly smirked. “Is the great Sherlock Holmes admitting defeat so easily?”

“If it will get me that foot any faster, yes! I’m defeated. Now who is it?”

Molly’s pink cheeks deepened to red. She brought her hands up to cover her face and nearly whispered. “Ho…ns.”

“Who? Speak up.” He leaned forward slightly to hear her better. 

“Ho…” her voice squeaked and she could feel her ears tingling as her blush intensified. “Hopkins.” 

Sherlock smiled. “Ah, now that’s interesting. DI Liza Hopkins hmm?”

“Her name is Lydia.” 

“I was close.”

“You really weren’t.”

“Close enough. You’ve never dated women before.” He observed.

Molly wrung her hands together. “That’s true. But Lydia is so sweet. She brings me coffee every time she comes to see me. The good brew from the shop down the street, not that burned stuff from the break room. She and I have a surprising amount of things in common too.” 

“It’s not so surprising. You do have complementary jobs.” He tented his fingers under his chin. “When are you going?”

Molly’s voice took on a dreamy tone. “New Year’s Eve. She’s taking me to _The Chateau_ and then to a party to wait for New Year.” 

Both Sherlock’s eyebrows went up. “Hmm. New Year’s Eve for a first date is a risky choice. High potential for let down if things don’t go well.”

“That’s true. If things do go well though…” she let the end of her statement hang.

“It would be a fantastic first date for you two.” Sherlock finished. Molly nodded in agreement. “ _The Chateau_ is a good choice as well. It’s higher end but not overly extravagant.”

“I’ve always wanted to go there. I wonder if she somehow knew that.” Molly’s smile faltered. “I don’t have anything to wear though.”

“What about that frock you wore to Christmas?”

“That was years ago already Sherlock. I don’t want to show up in any old dress from the back of the closet. I… I want to make a good impression.” Molly admitted softly while absent mindedly chewed her thumbnail. 

“I see.” Sherlock was quiet for a moment. “When does your shift end tonight?”

“In about three hours.”

“Excellent! Give me the foot and I’ll be back in three hours to help you shop for an appropriate outfit.” 

Molly stared in momentary shock. “Sherlock? You’d really do that for me?”

“Of course Molly. You’ve helped me many times in the past and it’s quite obvious you really like Lisa.”

“Lydia.” Molly corrected with a giggle. 

“Yes yes, Hopkins, you know who I meant.” He waved one gloved hand to move the topic along. 

“What about John?”

“Late shift at the clinic tonight. He won’t be home until later.” He muttered. 

“Still haven’t gotten him to quit, eh?”

Sherlock crossed his arms and pouted. “Don’t rub it in.”

Molly chuckled and met his eyes, her own sparkling with happiness. “Thank you Sherlock. You’re a good friend.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned his nose up but failed to hide his grin. “No need to get all soppy on me. Now, the foot if you please?”  
——

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember back when we found out who would play Hopkins in S4 and Hoopkins became a thing for a minute? Simpler times my friend. I still think they’d be cute together.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note the updated tags!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fruitcake/All Dressed Up - Johnlock, background Mystrade

John shrugged into the fine white shirt and smoothed out the sleeves. He felt a violent sense of déjà vu as he adjusted the cuffs. His stomach lurched as he turned a critical eye to his reflection. He thought it’d changed a quite a lot since the last time he had worn such posh apparel, and not necessarily for the better. 

There were more fine lines in his face. The dark spots beneath his eyes stood out far more prominently. His hair, already a so called ‘distinguished’ salt and pepper color, was beginning the whiten at his temples. My god, it had only been two years yet he felt as though it had been at least ten between them and now. He fisted his both hands at his sides so hard they shook.

“John?” Sherlock called gently from the bathroom doorway. John forcibly pulled his attention from the mirror. “Are you alright?”

‘Yes, fine.’ Hovered on the tip of John’s tongue. He opened his mouth fully prepared to say the words. Sherlock’s changeable eyes, tinged with concern, appeared icy blue in the natural light seeping through gauzy curtains. John knew there would be no use in lying. Such dishonesty had never done either of them any favors in any case. “No, I don’t think I am.” 

Sherlock divested himself of his jacket and placed it across the bed. He turned and gently folded John into a hug. Ever since the very first time John had broken down in front of Sherlock they had found this the most effective way to calm him. “This is the first time you’ve had to wear formal wear since your wedding.” His smooth baritone rumbled through John’s core.

John nodded against Sherlock’s chest. He balled and released his fist repeatedly. He had been fine only moments ago. How could something so insignificant effect him so suddenly? How could he be so weak? He focused on the soothing motion of Sherlock's hand on his back rather than the disparaging thoughts swirling through his mind.

“We don’t have to go.” Sherlock offered quietly.

John scoffed. “Sherlock, we have to go. He’s your brother.”

Sherlock sighed into John’s hair and he relaxed a bit more at the sensation. “Must you keep reminding me?”

“Yes, since you seem so eager to forget.”

“We could say there was a murder.” Sherlock suggested against the top of John’s head.

“You don’t see the problem with that?” John asked doubtfully. 

“We could worry about that after. It’s not like they'll check in the middle of the ceremony after all.”

John touched his forehead to Sherlock's chin. “I appreciate the effort, but I’ll be fine.” He tipped his face upward to better meet Sherlock’s gaze. “You’ll be there with me. It’s all fine.” He stretched up to plant a quick peck on Sherlock’s lips. Sherlock stared at him awestruck afterwards. John was continually amazed at the power even a small kiss still held over Sherlock after a year and a half. He shook out his left hand and slid it behind Sherlock’s neck to pull him into a deeper kiss. “How do you do that?” he murmured when they parted.

“What?”

“See anything good in me whatsoever.”

Sherlock tightened his hold on John. “John Hamish Watson, I’ll not listen to you disparage yourself right on front of me. You are…” he kissed John’s forehead “…the single most…” then the spot right next to John’s eyes where he previously noted deeper lines “…fascinating man…” the tip of John’s nose “…that I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.” Ending finally on his lips, John whimpered helplessly into Sherlock’s mouth. Sherlock, spurred on by his response, moved his attentions to the spot just below John's ear. His hands slid over Johns chest and down toward his waistband.

“Sherlock.” John managed in a strangled whisper as Sherlock carefully unzipped his flies. Sherlock sunk to his knees before John and nuzzled at his partially interested prick through his pants. “Sherlock!” he whispered loudly in alarm. “We'll be late. And your trousers...”

“Fuck my trousers.” He pulled the waistband down and John’s erection sprung free, quickly filling out at Sherlock’s rare use of profanity. Sherlock closed his lips around the head and explored John’s tip with his tongue while he nudged John’s trousers and pants off his hips. Once his clothing was clear Sherlock wrapped his fingers around John’s shaft and swallowed him down as far as he could manage. 

Sherlock set a merciless pace. John moaned and buried his fingers into Sherlock’s tousled curls. Not to push or exert any kind of control over Sherlock’s movements. He simply enjoyed the feel of the silken strands between his fingers. As he combed through them he noted a rouge grey hair buried toward the back of his head and realization hit. Neither of them were getting any younger but the two of them here, together, after all they had been through was nothing short of miraculous. 

Sherlock traced the ridge of his head and sucked him down nearly all the way. John gripped his hair a little harder to steady him. “Ah! I'm… mmph” was all he could get out of his mouth at the moment. Sherlock peered up at him, eyes dark and smoldering, and slowly pulled away. His tongue cradled John’s shaft until he reached the tip. He ran his tongue lightly along John’s ridge again, never breaking eye contact. He flicked his tongue teasingly at the slit and John exhaled shakily, reluctantly closing his eyes. Sherlock resumed his earlier pace and seconds later John spurted hot blissful streams of come into his mouth. 

John wasn’t entirely sure how he managed to keep his feet. Sherlock stood, gently tucked him away, and wrapped John in his arms once more. “Better?” he rumbled. 

“Much.” John admitted with no small amount of chagrin. “What about you?” John asked as he reached for Sherlock’s flies. Sherlock stilled him with one hand.

“I’m alright.” His voice dropped a full step lower. “I can wait until later.”

John nibbled at Sherlock’s neck. “Are you sure? It’s likely to be quite a while before this is over.”

“I am. But make no mistake John. I fully intend on taking my turn.” He turned to speak lowly in John's ear. “Later.”

John shivered involuntarily. “What a shame. Perhaps you could have talked me into staying after all.”

Sherlock pulled away hesitantly and dusted off his knees. “No fibbing John, it doesn’t suit you. You were right in the first place. If we miss this Mycroft will be more insufferable than usual, no doubt.”

John set about getting his own clothing in order. “Not to mention Greg. It would be quite a long time before he’d give you cases again if you missed his wedding.”

Sherlock stopped dead. “I hadn’t thought of that. And here we are dawdling as if we aren’t already running late! Hurry John!” He exploded into a flurry of motion, grabbing his suit jacket and running for the bathroom. “Ahhh! JOHN!! What have you done to my hair?!”

John chuckled and turned back to his reflection feeling vastly more at ease. It didn’t matter that it had taken almost a decade and several trips through hell and back. They had managed to find each other against the odds and he couldn’t be happier. He resolved to not waste a single moment more lamenting what he could not change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It turned out a bit less Christmasy than I had intended, but it was supposed to be a winter wedding. It didn’t come up naturally so I didn’t press it.


End file.
